Ten Months
by damigella
Summary: In S7E12 House gave Wilson ten days to "get back into it". Here  AU  Wilson decides on a different aim, and a different timeframe. Major character death. Psychiatric illness. Total fic: 6 Chapters, 2500 words approx.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Ten Months  
**Author**: damigella  
**Spoilers**: Through S7E14.  
**Warning**: Major character death. Psychiatric illness. Dark. Black. Darker than that.  
**Rating**: NC-17 (M)  
**Pairing**: House/Cuddy. Notice: the fic is not Huddy friendly.  
**Disclaimer**: don't own anything, except my roaring anger at TPTB.  
**Summary**: Fic starts at the end of S7E12. Third person. Eleven Months. Each Month is either POV Wilson or POV House.  
**Author's not**e: My very warped response to the While You Were Sleeping Challenge on sick_wilson.  
I took a sentence I liked and used it as challenge: "one character falls into a coma, and wakes up to a very different reality".  
More importantly, this is my reaction to what's going on in the show recently, plus the aftershock of alternatealto's A Taste of Victory on lj.  
This is just my anger speaking: I didn't want a beta reader to face that.

**February**

At first he couldn't believe it. After weeks of ignoring him, House had just given him ten days to "get back into it". By which he meant, surely, "Get another girlfriend so I don't need to feel guilty for forgetting you exist."

Now, lying in his bed, the soft, comforting purr of Sarah on his chest, he thought he had misunderstood. House just wanted him happy. And what would be wrong with that? That seemed a worthy goal.

But ten days? How much change can happen in ten days? And a big change it would have to be, because since Sam had left, he was deeply unhappy. Actually much longer, although the precise moment vaguely escaped from his mind.

When was the last happiness he could remember? Certainly the well-hidden one when House had given his talk at the conference... he had saved his career that day. And when they got the condo... and of course, the look on House's eyes after seeing the organ. That, that had been happiness.

Happiness was probably too much to expect, especially since there was so little House left for him. He wished briefly he could come to an agreement with Cuddy, like House had done with Amber. But he knew this was impossible.

No, the plan was clear: ending unhappiness in a reasonable, realistic time. Not ten days, but ten months.

**March**

Any hopes he could have had about House caring for him were gone. All he talked to him about was Cuddy. Even the "ten days challenge" had gone forgotten. The whole of him had gone forgotten, the fact that he had a life and needs and dreams. And pain.

Except he could still be useful. Cuddy had used him to tell House to go to the ceremony. House had used him to check that Cuddy really liked having a mariachi band, then again to be reassured that he was still a good doctor, despite having killed a patient by auditioning mariachi bands instead of concentrating on the symptoms.

It's not like House disliked him now. He was just... not interested. He didn't seem to be happy with Cuddy, but maybe he was. Maybe he had changed.  
He thought back of his divorces. Of Amber's death. Of how painful it had been to have "the end" officially written on each relationship, either by a judge's signature or by a slab of stone.

He now realized that such a clear cut had some advantage, as far as the pain went. Too bad there were no such landmarks for friendships. Still, the time had come for him to take care of himself. First of all physically. His fortieth birthday had come and gone, and it was time to take some effort to get back in shape.


	2. Chapter 2

**April**

House stepped on the balcony. The spring air was really fantastic. He stretched his arms, slowly massaging the aching shoulder. By old habit, he turned towards Wilson's half of the balcony, but this was empty. So was the office. Wilson spent more time than usual doing rounds recently, and more time at home, where he did most of the research and paperwork.

He wondered whether he should call at the condo today; it was Monster Truck Show evening, and they might have beer and takeout, like in the good old times... how long ago was that?

His pager beeped. Cuddy had a meeting with donors tonight, and wanted to remind him he had agreed to stay at home. Luckily Rachel would be asleep most of the time. He stepped back in, hurrying up.

**May**

As he limped his way into the hospital following Cuddy (they had driven together, like almost every morning), he almost banged into someone running. The person stopped to excuse himself. He was surprised to recognize Wilson.

"Hi, House. Early again?"

"What about you?"

"I like going for a run first thing in the morning. Gives me energy for the whole day." Wilson paused, looked at the cane. "Uh, sorry. I always manage to say the wrong thing, don't I?"

"No, why?" House pondered this briefly. Wilson had no reason to excuse himself. Running was a healthy thing to do; he looked tanned and fit. "It's good for you."

Wilson seemed relieved. "I'll be working in my office today. Want to have lunch?"

House remembered how long it was since they lunched together. "I'm going to have lunch with Cuddy, but you can join us at the cafeteria at one."

House and Cuddy ended up eating in her office, because she wanted to finalize the list of people to invite. She claimed that it had to be ready before they announced the wedding. In the back of House's mind, he felt that he was forgetting something, but when he had stared in the void for thirty seconds, trying to remember what it was, Cuddy brought him back to the matter at hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**June**

Wilson was not surprised to know that Cuddy and House were getting married. No one at the hospital was. He wasn't even particularly surprised by the fact that he heard of it via hospital gossip, originated by Cuddy's secretary having retrieved from her employer's trashcan the copy of the ballroom reservation and catering order.

Still, he felt it was his duty to go and congratulate the bridegroom, so he knocked at the nearby office, after having checked that House was sitting there alone, playing with his PSP.

"I heard the good news. Congratulations. Have you fixed a date?"

"I'm sure Cuddy has, but I don't remember it. Sometime in the fall."

"Is there... anything I can be helpful with?" Wilson expected House to want him as best man, but being unwilling to ask.

"Oh, no. Not really." House looked wistfully at the PSP, as if he was eager he could resume playing soon. "Cuddy's taking care of everything, really. She even found a best man. He's a big donor, and she expects in exchange he'll finance a new wing and a new activity. In our names."

"The Cuddy and House PSP Therapy Department?" Wilson hoped to sound funny, but he was very surprised. And a bit hurt. Maybe more than a bit. He cursed himself for having had unreasonable expectations, for having allowed House to hurt him again. Without even noticing.

"No. The L. and G.H. Cuddy Medical Administration Program." House switched the PSP on again, resumed playing. And answered a question Wilson hadn't asked. "She said women have taken their husbands' name for so long, it is high time for a change."

"And... you're happy with that?" Wilson's voice was almost a whisper. Too much of a whisper; House went on playing. He didn't seem to notice when Wilson left.

**July**

Cuddy had talked him into having two weeks of vacation. They were spending it on a cruise in the Caribbean, the kind of boat were you had to wear elegant clothes every evening.

He didn't particularly like it, but Cuddy was really enthusiastic. She said it was their honeymoon, because in October when they would get married she'd be too busy to take time off. And at least the sun was doing wonders for his leg. That and the little walking he did.

Cuddy came back from the yoga course, panting and sweated. "Today we should write the postcards. Here's the list. Start copying the addresses while I shower, then I'll write them, and then we can both sign."

"Sure. I'm getting bored lying here in the sun anyway." He went through the list. "Uh... shouldn't we also send one to Wilson?"

"House, you just want to rub it in that you're in a relationship and he's single. Let him be. It's funny enough you insist on sending one to your collaborators. I'll write in it that they should greet Wilson, too. He's next door anyway."


	4. Chapter 4

**August**

Wilson was spending his three weeks of vacation alone. His parents had finally decided to take a long-planned trip to Europe for their fiftieth anniversary, and he was asked to be their house-sitter. He almost laughed at the idea. After all the time he had spent House-sitting, he was certainly an expert.

The vacation was a very pleasant experience. He worked a lot in the garden, gave enough time to running, and even joined the local gym. Having his mother's vegetable garden handy he pushed his healthy diet up a notch. The effect of the last few months were noteworthy. He had bought new trousers and felt very elegant. And the love handles were gone, he felt fifteen years younger.

When August 10th came up, he did something he hadn't done since when he was a child: he watched the shooting stars, and made a wish. The wish that his plan would work, and by December the pain would be gone.

**September**

Cuddy was totally distracted by the wedding preparation, but House was back to his familiar office and routine. There were big improvements coming; Cuddy had raised enough donor funding to enlarge Diagnostics, so he was going to hire three new fellows and expand his caseload. He smiled inwardly as he recalled that, as a result, she had freed him of clinic duty permanently. The new fellows were more than enough to cover up. Moreover, Foreman had left to head his own Department somewhere on the West Coast, and Chase had become Vice Head in charge of all administrative responsibilities. Life was good.

Wilson had been moved to a new office somewhere near Oncology, and his former office would be used for Diagnostics' secretarial and archival needs. House had barely seen him in the last two months, as Wilson had been attending two Oncology conferences besides having a long vacation.

Since Cuddy was busy, he went to lunch alone. As he stepped into the elevator, he saw Wilson already in it, intent on reading a medical journal. He greeted him enthusiastically. "Hi! Long time no see. Want to join me for lunch?"

"Oh, no thanks. I would love to, but I have a huge paperwork backlog from the vacation. Another time." For a moment House saw Wilson's boyish smile, and vaguely realized he had missed it.

As he waited in line in the cafeteria, House thought briefly of the oncologist. He looked different: at the same time more elegant, younger and more tired. A strange combination. Then he sat down with his food, opened the file and started studying his part in the ceremony. Hebrew was hard: having Wilson nearby would definitely have been of use.


	5. Chapter 5

**October**

Wilson felt chilly. The temple wasn't usually cold, and most of the other guests were dressed lighter than he was. Luckily his warm, long alpaca coat was elegant enough, and so was his camel-colored cashmere scarf.

He strained a bit to see and hear, since only immediate family had found place near the huppah. He would have to wait for the official photos to really appreciate a clean-shaven House with suit, tie and kippah. He looked at Chase, sitting near him, fascinated by the first Jewish wedding he got to see.

It had been Chase who had informed him that House didn't want a bachelor's party. Cuddy had told Chase, and told him to let the other Diagnostics assistants know. Chase had decided to give a phone call to Wilson on a whim, just in case he hadn't heard. He hadn't. He remembered how House had organized unwanted bachelor's parties for him for weddings two and three, but felt that this was not the moment to reciprocate.

The wedding finished, everybody started moving towards the reception. Wilson felt chillier than ever and had a headache. He asked Chase to excuse him with the newlyweds and took a cab home.

**November**

"Greg? I need you to reschedule your dentist appointment for Friday. It's just a routine checkup anyway." It was funny her calling him Greg, no longer House. And yet reasonable, since his name was no longer House.

He told Rachel he'd be back in a moment to help her with her Lego building project, and joined Cuddy in her home office. "No problem. What do you need me for?"

"I want you in the committee to select the new Oncology Head. You know we can't just have Brown as Acting Head forever."

"You know, I haven't heard from Wilson since he left. Do you know where he's working now? He must have changed cellphone number."

"No, but he told me he was moving to Europe for a while. I guess he told me where when he sent notice mid-September, and I was so busy with the wedding that I totally forgot. I heard he had organized some kind of goodbye party for the Oncology staff."

"Oh, yes, he told me about it when he came to say goodbye to me. I was also invited, but it was my turn to babysit that night. Maybe we should also have organized something at a higher level. You know, he was Head of Oncology for ten years."

"Well, too late. I would have if he hadn't chosen such an inconvenient time. So, will you call the dentist and reschedule?"

"Certainly, but I need to do it fast. Rachel's waiting for me."


	6. Chapter 6

**December**

Spending part of the Hanukkah days with Cuddy's extended family was fun, House thought. The food was superb, most relations polite, and even Arlene was much more friendly now that they had married and he was on the way to conversion.

The family conversation was loud, and he almost didn't hear his cellphone ringing.

"Greg, does that thing have to be always on?" Arlene complained.

"Sorry, I'm expecting a call from my mother. It's Christmas eve for her, today." He went to the bathroom to have some quiet.

The female voice at the other end was unknown to him. "Here Trenton General Hospital. Is Dr. House speaking?"

"Yes, and I hope it's important." House couldn't understand how anyone at Trenton General could have his number.

"We call you because of Dr. James Wilson. You are listed as his emergency contact and medical proxy."

House was wondering. Why would that be? They had hardly seen each other for months.

"Dr. House? Are you still there? You should come here immediately, please. He may not survive the night."

The next hour was like a blur in House's mind. Cuddy had been unnerved at first, but then she had agreed to justify his absence in front of the family. They both briefly wondered what could have happened. Maybe a car accident.

When he arrived at Trenton General, he wasn't brought to the ER, but to a private room. A doctor was waiting for him outside, her face sad and tired. The voice from the telephone spoke. "Dr. House, I'm... very sorry."

"What happened? Was it an accident?"

"No. He called 911 this morning. An ambulance picked him up. You... you need to be strong. You'll find him very changed." She opened the door to the room.

It took House a full minute to realize that the skeletal man in the bed was Wilson. He was unconscious.

"What... what happened?"

"Anorexia nervosa. He kept a diary annotating physical activity, caloric intake and body weight. He started slowly in the spring, and by the end of August had lost about 40 pounds. Then he was a bit underweight but still healthy. He went deeper underweight until about the middle of October and then... he took a nose dive. He's well below 100 pounds now, and all his organs are shutting down. He must have monitored his own condition closely, and when he called 911 it was too late for us to reverse the process."

"Will he regain consciousness?"

"He's been drifting in and out. If you stay here, you'll probably be able to say goodbye. In the meantime, maybe you can tell us if he has other friends or relatives who should be notified? We couldn't find any other name in his flat besides yours and his lawyer's, and the lawyer's offices are closed today."

"I think they still have all the data at Princeton Plainsboro. He was working there until recently."

The doctor thanked him and hurried away.

House sat down and looked at Wilson. And memories flooded him suddenly of a Christmas evening long ago, when Wilson had pretended to have to work to avoid... what was her name... Julie, and they had spent the day together and eaten takeout and drunken beer and watched TV and laughed and it had been the best Christmas of his life. He thought of Wilson taking care of him post infarction, ignoring his insults. Wilson packing his office after Vogler threw him out for having saved House's job. Wilson risking to lose his license and go to jail for him during the Tritter affair. Wilson driving him to his father's funeral. Wilson smiling while he played the organ for the first time.

It seemed impossible to him now that in the last year he had given up on this friendship completely to pursue... what? The normality that always had eluded him? At some point, he had decided to just be who Cuddy wanted him to be. To always say yes. In exchange, he had received peace and love and security and a family. And happiness. Or so he had told himself.

And now the person who used to be his best friend had starved himself to death and he hadn't even noticed. Because he hadn't cared.

He heard a stronger breath intake. Wilson opened his eyes. It almost hurt to see how the eyes had not changed at all, and seemed twice as large as usual in the thinned out face.

"Hi, House. Sorry. Hi, G.H. Cuddy." The little wrinkles in the corner of the eyes were showing as they usually did when he made a joke at House's expense.

"Hi, Wilson." House felt he should be crying. But he couldn't. He just felt a big hard stone halfway through his throat. Maybe that's where the tears were.

"I'm glad you're here to celebrate with me. I changed the bet, you see. And I won."

"Bet? What are you talking about?"

"Last February. You told me I had ten days to get back into it, remember?"

House remembered now. He hadn't thought of that again after he said it. He idly wondered where Sarah was now.

"Well, I decided instead that I would take ten months to stop being in pain. I figured out you didn't want to see me suffer, and I thought ten months were more realistic than ten days."

"But...but..."

"Let me explain, I'll be brief." He paused to catch up breath. "I soon realized that it wasn't that you didn't want to see me suffer; you simply didn't want to see me. At all. First I just tried to forget you, and to concentrate on getting rid of my unhappiness. I tried to be away from you, to do things I liked. The pain didn't seem to go. But then... later... I slowly found a way to do both. Stop suffering. And disappearing. A pound at a time. And I made it in ten months." Wilson leaned back in the pillows, his eyes fixed in House's.

And now there was something else he recognized. The generous, selfless affection that had warmed up his life for years. A feeling so strong and so constant it seemed inappropriate not to call it love. A love stronger than any Wilson had given to the women in his life - maybe Amber had come the closest. A love he had known and enjoyed and then... then, apparently just ignored and forgotten, in his quest for coupled happiness. And nevertheless, as Wilson's life ebbed away, that love was still there.

House was no longer sick with guilt. There would time for that later. He was thinking about his life, the choices he had made, with the eyes of the man he used to be, the man Wilson had known and loved for years; and he was horrified. Disgusted.

Overcome by affection, he held both the dying man's hands in his own, cringing inside at how fragile they felt. "Wilson... how did this all happen? How come I didn't know better?"

Wilson's smile became, if possible, even more full of love. He seemed to recognize that his friend was back after a long absence, and to have understood the deep meaning of his question. "Maybe you were sleeping."

* * *

**Author's note**: The prompt I chose was: "one character falls into a coma, and wakes up to a very different reality".

I took the liberty to replace a physical coma with a long absence of House's true personality. A deep sleep of his soul. Because that's what I see now in the show. I hope his awakening will not be as bitter.

Wilson dies of anorexia, not of suicide. The anorexia itself is triggered by the fact that the depression, which he has been fighting against for many years, worsens when he no longer has House in his life. It is his love for House that makes him call 911, in the hope to see him one last time. And I like to think that it is a comfort to him that his friend not only actually comes, but looks at him with the love of old. Here it is irrelevant whether their love includes or not a sexual component.


End file.
